


Fierce

by NaturalDisaster_Goddess



Series: Corruption [4]
Category: Linked Universe - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Coma, F/M, Fire, I'll figure it out later, Linked Universe, i don't know what else to put
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2020-05-28 12:08:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 8,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19393825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaturalDisaster_Goddess/pseuds/NaturalDisaster_Goddess
Summary: I’m trapped.I’m trapped.I’m trapped... forever.There’s no escape….How dare they…How dare they do this to me.





	1. Sleep

They almost expected it to happen at this point.

Still… this one was unexpected.

They didn’t even realize there was something wrong at first.

So what if Time overslept? He’d certainly earned it….

Then he wouldn’t wake up….

It didn’t matter how much Twilight shook his shoulder. Or shouted in his ear. Or how loud they were. It didn’t even matter when Legend pulled a trumpet from his endless stock of items and blasted it in his face for a solid minute.

Time remained limp and unresponsive; eye closed and breaths even and easy.

His apparent peace did nothing to sate their worry.


	2. Two Little Forest Children

“Hey. What are you doing here all alone?”

“I don’t have anyone to be with…”

“Well, why don’t you be with me? I don’t have anyone to be with either.”

“...ok”

They had come to me that day; all ragged clothes and crooked grins. They had offered me something I’d never had before; companionship… a friend.

So that day, lying in the forest, I made my first friend. They dragged me along on all of their inane adventures; stealing pastries from the baker, throwing eggs at the mayor when he gave a speech, painting a farmer’s fence pink.

We did everything together; the two little forest children.

I was too young to know that it couldn’t last.

After all…

Whenever there is a meeting, a parting is sure to follow.


	3. The Ranch

It had been a few months since Malon had seen her husband, and about a week since his last letter. She hoped he and the boys would come by soon. If the contents of his last several letters were anything to go by; they could use some peace.

When she saw the cluster of human shaped silhouettes she knew that what she’d hoped had come to pass.

When she saw the limp figure dangling between Warriors and Twilight as the two struggled to get him to the house she knew that it wasn’t a good thing.


	4. The First Hint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live.

I don’t remember what I was dreaming about; only that the sound of their snickering and the feeling of them shaking my shoulder roughly woke me.

I groaned, “What is it Majora?”

They cackle, “Come on! Wake up! I’ve got an idea!”

“You’re last idea left me covered in sawdust, feathers and superglue for a week.”

“This one’s better than that!” they insisted.

“Fine.” I rolled to the side, pushing myself up.

Majora bounced impatiently on their feet, and as soon as I was on my feet they grabbed my arm dragging me away to our next adventure.

They pull me along, cackling the whole way, until we reach a small farm. It’s summer and the work is light; two children can be seen chasing each other through the fields, their father warning them to be careful of the crops while his husband laughs beside him…

Happy.

“What was your idea?” I ask.

Majora chuckles.

“Just watch.” they say as they bring their hands up in the familiar form of a spell.

Sparks dance around their hands, and then sparks dance at the feet of the children. The two of them yelp as stinging embers touch their feet; jumping and dancing in a way reminiscent of a pair of drugged frogs.

The laughter falls from my mouth, echoing Majora’s, as we watch the two confused children.

Then the sparks grow stronger; my loud, mirthful laughs fade to confused chuckles, but Majora’s only increase in intensity and amusement.

Still the sparks grow stronger; the children crying, almost screaming, as their dads rush to see what’s wrong.

“Majora,” I start, “maybe it’s time to stop.”

They don’t even spare me a glance, “But I’m just getting started.”

The sparks flicker, and before long a full fledged fire is burning at the children’s feet as their fathers hurriedly pull them away.

“Majora!” I cry, slapping their hand down to disrupt the spell.

But it’s far too late; the fire grows, rapidly consuming every blade of grass, every plant that stands in its way. It grows only stronger, and I can only watch as the family runs for their house grabbing as many valuable items as they can carry before running to the town for help. One of the children whistles for their dog and the sleek border collie streaks towards them, barking and whining at the fire as it runs past.

Majora laughs: loud, mirthful, and tinged with a madness I’d never heard from them, and the fire grows stronger and larger. I can almost feel the scorching heat as it overtakes; first, the crops, and then the house. The house catches easily, all wood and cloth and glass, the windows shatter under the heat of the blaze, wooden walls creaking and wavering as the flames lick away at their strength.

The fire crackles merrily as it eats that family’s home away; as it burned on it got harder and harder for me to distinguish between the cackling of the fire and the cackling of my friend.

“Majora,” I say breathlessly, “you shouldn’t have done that.”

They look at me; guileless, innocent, and curious, “But I’m just having fun.”


	5. Malon Interlude: First Meeting

They were both just children when they met.

He’d come up to her ranch and found her in the pasture with the horses. He’d been covered in sweat, dirt, and leaves with twigs caught in his hair, and he had the brightest smile on his face when he talked to her, so happy to come across someone his own age. He was a wreck too; barging through doors, smashing pots, cheating at her father’s cucco game.

Somehow though, she knew, with the same certainty and confidence that she knew which foals would be stronger, which ones would need the extra help, exactly how much food and water each horse needed, which horses would be better for racing, and which horses would be better for jumping or working the plow. She _knew_ … _this one is special_.

So she taught him Epona’s Song, and when Epona took to him like a flame to a candle wick she knew with even greater certainty that she was right.

He kept coming back after that; sometimes sporting a thicker layer of dirt than normal, or a bloody scratch. Everytime he came like that she'd fuss over his state, playfully scold him for being an idiot, then grab a bucket of water and tell him to wash the dirt off while she tended whatever wounds he’d managed to collect. In return he always came to her home with a happy smile despite the encroaching sadness in his eyes.

Then she heard that one of the king’s advisors had been revealed as a traitor, and been swiftly dealt with. The details of how were never confirmed. All she knew was that her Fairyboy had shown up the next day without his fairy, and for the first time… without a smile.


	6. Masks

For the next week after the fire Majora’s little, benign pranks got less and less little and benign; an exploding package at someone’s door that cost them a finger, a piece of raw meat in someone’s food that nearly killed them, poison ivy rubbed inside someone’s clothes that hospitalized them. 

Then, exactly a week after the fire, they came to me; not with jibes or dangerous prank ideas but with what they called a gift.

A mask.

The masks.

They gave me a human mask; pale skin, empty eyes, gray hat, and meaningless markings. They had their own too; dark purple and heart shaped, covered in spikes with piercing eyes that were enough to terrify me.

“You see,” they said as they pulled it on, covering their vicious grin, “now no one can see my face. No one can see what I’m thinking.”

I merely nodded; pulling my own mask on.

If Majora wore their mask to hide their growing madness; I wore mine to hide my fear.

I still don’t know which is worse.


	7. Wrong

_ Has it really been four days? _ Twilight found himself contemplating.

It somehow felt like no time at all had passed, but at the same time it felt like it had been years. Seconds passing like drops of pitch in an hourglass; while days flashed by like river rapids.

He didn’t even remember if he’d slept in that time. Malon had been in and out of the room the most besides him, but somehow she kept a smile on her face for the rest of them. Twilight wasn’t sure how she did it, but he wasn’t totally fooled. Sometimes, late at night he’d catch glimpses of her sitting at Time’s side, cupping his hand in hers, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest as though the peaceful motion would stop if she looked away for even a second.

He wished he could help her; his heart aching and screaming at him to go comfort her, though he didn’t quite know why. One night he finally listened to that screaming; went into the room and sat with her. They didn’t speak, but he liked to think she’d been glad for his company. That he’d managed to offer some comfort even though they both knew he wasn’t the person she wanted to hear from right now.

Then morning came and she was smiling again; and Twilight couldn’t tell if time had gone forward or backward. Were days passing or repeating? He’d found himself unable to tell.

He wasn’t sure if the others could tell either.

They’d almost grown used to these occurrences; when the past would come back to haunt one of their number in a much more literal sense than usual. This time though, it almost seemed like there was nothing wrong. No rotting away, no savage monster cloaked in shadow, no sadistic enemy rising from the grave. There was only Time and his peaceful sleep, and save for the duration it seemed as though nothing was wrong at all.

But that wasn’t right.

Everything was wrong; just not the heavy, painful wrong of the last few instances.

It was the stinging, awkward wrong of Twilight guiding the others through the chores and tasks of living on a ranch.

It was the aching, disjointed wrong of Warriors struggling to calm Sky from his nightmares.

It was the long, strange wrong of carrying on as though everything was normal even though there was a gaping hole in the group.

It was the pulling, restraining wrong of not knowing what to do.

It was the stabbing, dysphoric wrong of Time not being there.


	8. Riot

I knew it had only been a matter of time, but it still made me sad.

The day Majora ran to me; trembling and confused.

They’d gone on one of their solo adventures, something that had become increasingly common since I’d tried to stop them at the fire, and it evidently hadn’t gone well. The bruises that covered their arms and back a tribute to that.

I’d been in the forest, home, when they came running through the trees. I could hear angry shouts near the edge of the woods, muffled by distance, as they barreled into my arms. They clung to me like a child would a favorite toy; babbling barely comprehensive nonsense about how they’d snuck through town to execute their next prank and been met with harsh words and thrown stones from the expectant town’s people.

I stayed with them as they cried; asking anyone and no one why the people had been so angry at them.

I stayed with them even as I felt my lungs freeze when they uttered those familiar words…

“I’m just having fun.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all, been a while since I updated this, I got busy, but I hope you like this chapter

The air felt heavy around the ranch; like a tent with an important pole missing, canvas falling in on itself in suffocating layers.

Yet somehow, life went on.

The Links went on with the usual chores they handled while visiting; Legend and Warriors still trying to bribe each other into taking care of the cuccos until Sky would barrel in to easily handle the vicious birds, Wind still went on in his misguided efforts to carry far more weight than he could really carry. To any observer everything was perfectly normal.

It was the little things that revealed the group’s real pain.

The way Malon made hot chocolate for them more often than not, even though it was midsummer. The half spirited voices in normally boisterous conversations, arguments and bickering. The way Sky had taken to painting his claws in brighter and brighter pastels as though he could combat the gloom through the power of bright colors alone.

It only got gloomier as the week went on; the heavy canvas of that collapsing tent falling in ever more suffocating folds.

A week passed before Time moved, and then the gloom was gone.

Gone, and swiftly replaced by panic.


	10. Monsters

If I had to pick out one moment when I knew everything I’d known was gone; it would be this one.

The moment I found Majora crouched amongst a group of monsters; playing with them as though they were loyal pets. I almost called out to them, but they were moving towards the town with their new pets trailing behind them before I could work up the courage.

I’m not sure why but I kept quiet as I followed them. They didn’t even seem to look for me.

I wasn’t surprised when they snuck towards one of the watch guards the town had posted since Majora’s increasingly frequent, and violent, visits.

I  _ was _ surprised when instead of pulling out some clever tool of mischief Majora cackled and set the monsters on the unsuspecting guard.

By the time I fully realized what was happening, I was already running towards the guard. Perhaps I’d thought,  _ hoped _ , that Majora would call the monsters back when they saw me.

Instead, when I pushed the guard out of the way and felt wolfos claws tear into my skin, I heard them scoff.

“Now why’d you have to get in the way?” they drawled as I pushed myself off the ground.

I was stumbling when I got to my feet, but seeing as the ground where I’d been laying was already covered in thin splashes of blood, I was content to take what I could get.

“Majora…. What are you doing…?” I panted as the guard stumbled and ran for the town.

“Awww you let him get away,” they pouted, “I’m just doing what I’ve always done… Having fun.”

They bounded over to me, the monsters around them falling back into a circle of growls, and then shoved at my chest, ignoring my pained gasp when they hit the long gouges in my shoulder, “and getting rid of anyone who tries to stop me.”

They shoved me again, and I stumbled back.

Majora’s mask had become an almost permanent feature; they almost never took it off.

And it was the lifeless eyes of the mask I now stared into. I had never liked that mask; it had always given me chills.

Now, looking up at that mask, unsure if it was hiding my friend or if my friend was truly just gone, I hated it more than ever.

So I looked away from the mask, turned away from whatever remained of my friend, and walked away.


	11. Traveling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally back! Sorry about how long it's been. I got really busy and really low on inspiration, but now I have preety much all the time in the world and I've finished mapping out the rest of the story. So it's time to get this rolling again.

I didn’t go back to Clock Town for years. I took long, winding detours to avoid it while I travelled, and, much like Majora, I began to wear my mask more and more until it felt strange to not be wearing it.

I visited every corner of Termina, several times over, except Clock Town. For years I neither saw nor heard anything of Majora; I wondered if perhaps they’d given up on causing trouble, or if the town’s people had finally chased them off or killed them.

I couldn’t call them my friend anymore, but the thought of them dead still made my chest ache. I tried not to think about them; tried to keep myself occupied with all there was to learn outside of Clock Town. And for a while, it worked.


	12. Woodfall

I had spent my entire life in the forest, and though I knew I was no longer welcome I couldn’t yet bring myself to leave the trees all together. So I made my way South, to Woodfall. The Deku Scrubs were always nice enough, but I felt even more out of place than I had in Clock Town or the forests.

I wandered around the outskirts of the swamp, and one day found the temple. The temple was full of rooms and places to explore, and tall branches to curl up in at night, and best of all; Woodfall was where I met the first of  _ them _ .

* * *

I stifled a hollow giggle, darting between the rooms in the temple. An odd shimmering light had recently appeared in one of the rooms, and, though curious, I’d left it alone for several days. Now though, I had finally decided to see what it was. It felt odd; investigating something like this on my own. Leaving the forest had been my choice, but still, it got pretty lonely on my own, and I’d started developing a habit of talking to myself or even to the odd carvings on the walls and floors.

And so, as I approached the light, I muttered my questions to paintings that would never respond.

The light was blue, shining and glittering in little twirls. I hopped over to it, staring at the beautiful glow. It was….oddly soothing; like the months I’d spent alone here hadn’t been that lonely at all.

I yelped when the light rippled under my finger, hardly realizing I’d touched it. The light grew brighter; it should’ve hurt, I should’ve been afraid. But instead I felt….warm.

Brighter and brighter the light grew; until all I could see was white.

When I could see again; I wasn’t in the temple.

‘Did I leave?’ I wondered idly.

The sky was blue; dotted with clouds and there was water all around. It was beautiful.

I could have stood there and stared forever, but a loud, gentle voice distracted me.

The first voice I’d heard besides my own in months, and it asked an achingly familiar question.

_ “Why are you alone?” _


	13. Snowhead

I went North next; to the Gorons in the high mountains I’d only ever been able to stare at. The Gorons were a blunt, accepting, but competitive lot; I quite liked them.

This time though; I knew what to look for. It took me far less time to find Snowhead then it had Woodfall. Snowhead was a maze of paths and doors, and it always felt like it was still keeping one more secret from me.

Nearly a month later I found the light again. The light that would take me to meet the second one of  _ them. _

* * *

The big, round room reminded me of a racetrack; the curves and sloped entertained me for about an hour before I decided I preferred the vines and branches of Woodfall.

I was rounding a corner, about to leave, when I saw the familiar light.

I gave an excited gasp and darted into it; ready to meet a new friend.


	14. Great Bay

I spent a lot of time with the Zora before finding Great Bay. Much of that time was them teaching me to swim. I hadn’t had any reason to learn before; running, jumping and climbing had always been enough to get me where I wanted. Now though, I found it fun, and started spending almost more time in the water than on land.

It took a long time for me to find Great Bay. For a while I loved it and its complicated valves and rooms. My love of the temple went downhill over the course of many  _ many _ weeks of getting lost or stuck in a rapid whirlpool.

I didn’t find the light for a long time, and when I did I breathed a happy sigh of relief.  _ They _ would always help me through the temples when I was tired or confused. Which meant my days of getting stuck in whirlpools were finally over.

So with a joyous cry I jumped into the light.


	15. The Stone Tower

My next stop was Ikana. I liked Ikana. The people there were most like those in Clock Town, and after so many years away from my old home it brought a sense of nostalgia. I stayed with the people in the canyon for a long time before I even began to  _ look _ for the temple.

The Kingdom of Ikana was a nation of warriors, but still they welcomed me. When they found I didn’t know how to even hold a sword they decided it would be their job to fix that.

* * *

I giggled quietly as I darted across the many roofs, cliffs and pillars in Ikana. I was bigger now, almost fully grown, but it had made me no less agile.

I stretched out across the top of one of the pillars when I reached my destination; gazing out over the training field as the soldiers of Ikana trained and sparred together. Castle Town had very few weapons, and even fewer soldiers, but though I had little grasp for the skill that went into their actions it still captivated me.

I stared down at the soldiers in their matches of two; supervised by their captain as she strode among them to correct the odd stance or elbow placement.

I’d been watching for ten minutes when the captain looked up at my hiding place.

“Hey!” she shouted, “Don’t think I don’t know you’re up there!”

I flushed and made my way down the pillar as several soldiers chuckled, well used to my presence by now.

The captain had a small smirk on her face, “Like watching training, hm? This is what, fourth time this week?”

I flushed further as she grabbed a sheathed sword.

“Know how to use one of these?” she asked.

I shook my head.

“Would you like to learn?” she asked.

She tossed the weapon to me and I fumbled to catch it.

* * *

I trained for many years with the captain, slowly getting better and better. I continued to travel as she trained with me; going off to see old friends among the Deku Scrubs, Gorons, and Zora.

On one such visit the Deku Royal family offered me a gift, an ocarina, as a show of welcoming and friendship or something.

By the time they’d finished the speech I had already been lost in my inspection of the small instrument; curiously poking at the holes, blowing small puffs of air into the mouthpiece, and had tuned out well over three quarters of the speech.

When I visited the Gorons after the captain had decided that I had graduated from her teachings they insisted on making me armor and a new sword to celebrate.

The blacksmith seemed to have gone a bit overboard as, when he presented me with the weapon, it was nearly as tall as I, and fashioned in a hypnotic double helix.

I almost claimed it was too much, but the blacksmith had seemed happy to simply have a challenge.

So with those gifts I decided it was long about time I find the temple in Ikana, I had been distracted for long enough.

The Stone Tower was a captivating place. The temples no longer gave off the sense of wonder that they had when I was a child, but still they beckoned to me with the call of adventure.

It took quite a while for me to find the last of  _ them _ , but the excited trill I heard upon going through the light was well worth the effort.

After the first one  _ they _ somehow always knew to expect at some point, and, I think, somewhere along the way they had begun to appreciate and anticipate my company.

Still, when I made my way through the light to the last of  _ them _ the first thing I heard after the greeting was singing.

The song repeated until I grabbed the ocarina I’d gotten from the Deku Scrubs and played along.

We played, and sang, together for a while. Until I knew for sure that I would never forget that song.

  
  


I wish I’d known how soon I’d need it.


	16. Interim

I hadn’t known at the time, but as I’d traveled the old friend I’d tried to forget had done some traveling of their own.

They grew, as I did, and so did their power.

Their power grew, and grew, until, to many, it seemed that there were no limits to their power.

And as it always is, people flocked to their power. People flocked to their power and madness and under their devout worship that power and madness grew.

If there had been anything left of my friend after the day I left; it was long gone now. Buried under insanity, magic, and misplaced mischief.

But they never forgot me.

They never forgot how I got between someone and their monsters’ claws.

They never forgot how I tried to stop them from burning a family alive.

They never forgot how I left them.


	17. The Messenger

The messenger came almost as soon as I returned from the Stone Tower.  
He was ragged, panting, and hadn’t stopped once on his run from Clock Town.  
He stumbled into the training yard; desperately gasping half formed words before he was forced to give into his exhaustion and collapsed.  
The captain and I were the first ones to reach him. After checking his pulse she told me to take him to a room in the infirmary, and shouted at someone else to bring water as I lifted the man and carried him to a bed.  
I stood by for a few minutes as one of the doctors looked him over and a stuttering new recruit raced in with as much water as she could carry.  
The doctor dampened a cloth and placed it over the man’s mouth to at least begin treating his dehydration, but otherwise there was nothing to do until he woke up.  
The captain joined us a few minutes later and dismissed the recruit before taking a seat to wait for the messenger to regain consciousness.  
We only waited fifteen minutes before the jerked upright and tried to spout sentences around the drips of water from the cloth. The doctor pushed him back down and helped him to drink sips of water before allowing him to continue his message.  
“The imp,” he rasped, “they came… to Clock Town…”  
My eyes went wide behind my mask. There was only one imp he could be talking about.  
“They’re destroying everything…” he continued, “please…”  
The captain turned to the doctor, “Make sure this man has adequate food and water.”  
Then she turned to me, “Tell the soldiers to pack up and be ready to leave for battle in two days.  
I will alert the king.”


	18. The Eve of Battle

The soldiers were ready to leave within the allotted two days, and when the king rode out the massive war caravan was already lined up in rows, waiting for the order to move out.

The king led the caravan out of the Kingdom and towards Clock Town. In another day the soldiers were encamped atop the high cliffs overlooking Termina Field.

I stood at the edge of the cliffs, staring down at the crowd of people and monsters scattered across the field, wondering if I may catch a glimpse of Majora, if I’d even recognize them anymore.

With all of Majora’s new lackeys covering the field it was impossible to send anyone into Clock Town. It was a miracle the messenger who’d alerted us had even made it.

I sighed and moved away from the cliff, back to the camp where I sat in silence and sharpened the double helix blade the Gorons had given me. The thoughts that plagued me were ones I’d have preferred to leave unpondered, but the eve of a battle has a way of dredging up unwanted thoughts.

_ Would I have to fight Majora? Would they remember me? What memories of me did they keep? The time I held them as they shivered and sobbed after being chased out of town with rocks and stones? Or the times I tried to stop them from going too far? _

I looked back across the field, and hoped I wouldn’t have to find out.


	19. The Fierce Deity

The fight seemed endless.

I can’t remember how many days passed. If it had been weeks, months, or years.

I couldn’t even remember how many I’d killed.

I only remembered when people started calling me that name.

After a week, or maybe two weeks, of returning to base camp covered in blood, none of it mine, and without so much as a scratch people started to call me The Fierce Deity.

At first it was just a nickname, passed around the soldiers in good humor. Then they started to call me that more and more often even the captain and the king had taken to using it. Within the month, I think, the people in Clock Town had started calling me that as well.

At some point I began to respond to the nickname more than my actual name. The more people called me that, the more I wondered if they actually believed it.

By the time we wiped Majora’s lackeys from the field no one even used my real name anymore.

During the celebrations after the war it was always, “Well done FD, we won!”

But I could only sit and wonder why we were celebrating.

The fights had been long, and gruesome, and quite honestly mostly a blur.

But I was certain that I hadn’t seen Majora for any of it. Not one glimpse of a dead eyed mask. Not one hint of a mad cackle. There had been no trace of them.

It was the last thing I wanted to do, but late at night, while the other people and soldiers were either passed out or singing drunken folk songs I grabbed a small bag of supplies and my sword and snuck away into the forest.

* * *

I found them right where I had expected to, tucked away in a familiar corner of the forest humming a tuneless, disjointed melody.

This was the exact place where they’d found me, the place I used to call “home”.

“And The Fierce Deity finally arrives!” they cackled, “What took you so long? I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come.”

“Your armies are dead,” I said, “What are you still doing here?”

“Armies? You’re acting like this is a war,” they crowed, “no, this is just two old friends catching up.”

“People have died!”

“By your hand, mostly,” they called as they flipped over a tree branch to dangle in front of my face, “So who’s the bad guy now?”

My fists clenched and my heart pounded in my chest, but I remained silent.

“The Fierce Deity. The warrior who killed thousands without even denting his armor. The ancient war god summoned from the depths of hell. The man who can cleave an army in half with a single swipe of his blade. The merciless killer drenched in the blood of his victims.”

My heart beat faster, louder. I’d heard the rumors; done my best to ignore them.

“I’m only having fun,” Majora continued, “What are you doing?”

_ What are you doing? _

_ What are you doing? _

_ What are you doing? _

_ What are you doing? _

The words echoed in my mind like explosions, blocking out any other sounds.

_ What are you doing? _

_ What are you doing? _

_ What are you doing? _

_ What are you doing? _

I didn’t even notice when I grabbed my sword.


	20. The Imp and The War God

We had grown in our time apart, both of us.

But where they had found followers; I had found teachers.

Our fight took us out of the woods, into the field and into easy sight of whatever people and soldiers were still relatively sober.

Majora’s magic was stronger, but they had never learned to fight as I had.

Whatever spells they threw at me were easily dodged or deflected, and whatever clumsy shields they threw up were easily avoided.

Before long their only hope was in dodging.

But I had learned some magic of my own.

Majora leapt away from a slash at their chest, springing several meters back only to be caught in the arm by a swirl of bright light. They cried out when the light hit them, and the sound wrapped around my heart like a vice, reminding me of a time when I would have defended them from such pains.

My vision blurred but I couldn’t tell if it was adrenaline or tears, but still I continued to fight.

People were starting to gather, watching the fight with awe or terror or some mix of both.

I was winning.

I landed another blow that knocked Majora to the ground, and before they could get up I was charging them. Ready to deliver a killing blow.

A killing blow that never landed.


	21. Two Masks

My blade thudded into the ground by Majora’s head.

My hands were shaking, and there were definitely tears slipping from my eyes.

  
  


I couldn’t do it.

  
  


I couldn’t kill them.

  
  


Majora made a confused sound as my hands fell from the pommel of the sword, fumbling for my ocarina.

The tears fell down my face and memories flashed in my mind.

Memories of the song _they_ had taught me.

With shaky hands I brought the ocarina to my mouth and began to play.

It was a peaceful, but mournful melody. A song of regrets laid to rest and souls allowed to heal.

I played through tears and shaking hands as long as it took for the notes to reach Majora.

And for the first time in a long time Majora was calm. 

They laid peacefully on the ground at my feet, slowly allowing the melody to carry them away.

“That song…” they mumbled, “it’s so pretty…”

Soon they were naught but energy; dull purple energy drifting into the mask.

Only once they had completely vanished did I allow myself to stop playing.

The ocarina fell from my limp fingers. I knelt down and picked up the heart-shaped mask with the soulless eyes. The mask I had always hated. The mask that now held all that remained of what had once been my only friend.

There were footsteps approaching, the sound of someone picking something off the ground. I paid it no mind.

Until the muttering reached me.

_Dangerous, both of them…_

_What if it comes back…?_

_What do we do…?_

Then, finally, I looked up.

I looked up into a familiarly terrified face. The last time I had seen that face it had twisted in horror as the girl it belonged to watched her home burn down. Now that same horrified expression was directed at me.

She held my ocarina in her hands.

There were several long seconds before she brought it to her mouth and began to play.

My eyes went wide as she played the same song I had only moments before.

Majora’s mask slipped from my grasp as I darted to my feet.

But dozens of people now stood before me, all humming the same song as the girl played.

I staggered on my feet as the song played, a strange calm filled my mind until only a small trace of my previous terror remained.

I felt faint.

I felt like I was disappearing, and for the time while I heard that song, I was oddly ok with that.

It was only after I had vanished, my mask falling to the ground that the song stopped playing and my terror returned.

_No…_

_No…_

_Please…_

_Don’t trap me here…_

The last thing I heard as my mask hit the ground was The Four Giants singing a desolate harmony; their song a mournful plea for a friend to come.


	22. Wake

Most of the Links were outside when it happened. Warriors helping Sky relearn how to use his bow with his claws while the others are doing chores.

Only Twilight is inside when Time opens his eye. He darts up when he sees it, concerned questions already spilling from his mouth. 

The questions cut clean off when he sees the eye; stark white and hollow.

The mask that always lay close at hand begins to glow and Twilight’s eyes go wide with horror.

* * *

The loud crash immediately has the others on high alert as they grab weapons that no longer leave their sides.

They arrive in time to see Twilight pulling himself up off the door that had been blown clean off its hinges.

“What happened?!” Warriors calls.

The response he gets is the rapid appearance of a tall figure draped in silver armor with a large sword sheathed on his back. 

It looks like Time; the same face, the same build, similar armor, and the same markings on his face.

But it is very clearly  _ not _ Time.

Time had always felt powerful, unshakable, but not like this.

Never this cold.

Never this bitter.

Never with quite this ancient, simmering  _ fury _ that left even their unshakable courage rattled.

He unsheathed the vast double helix sword from his back and readied it, but even as the others readied their own weapons he didn’t move.

Only after several seconds did he give an almost half-hearted swipe, launching a twirling blade of light at them.

They leapt out of the way, and finally Legend darted forward to take a swipe at his legs.

He blocked the slash and before Legend could recover he hit Legend in the chest with the flat of his blade.

It went much the same for another several minutes. The Links making no progress, but never getting any more than bruises from his attacks and counter attacks.

They were scattered in a loose half circle, breathing raggedly, and unsure of what to do next.

As it happened; that decision didn’t come down to them.

For the next sound to come from the battlefield is a harsh clang of metal on bone.


	23. Dreams Memories

He falls forward as the sound rings out; falling face first onto the ground to show Malon behind him holding a heavy cast iron skillet, fully prepared to swing it a second time.

A second swing doesn’t end up being necessary as the man collapses to the ground unconscious. His form shimmers before pulling its way back into the simple mask that falls limply beside Time’s face.

There’s a unified sigh of relief from all of them once the man looks, and  _ feels _ , like himself again.

The rest of them kneel close by as Malon pokes the mask away with her skillet and kneels beside her husband, biting her lip worriedly.

Wordlessly they collect Time’s, once again, unconscious body and wrestle him back into bed. They silently agree to leave the mask where it is.

* * *

Time remembers flashes while he sleeps. Little fragments of memories of his family watching over him.

Malon and Twilight are the most common. Mostly silent but he can remember their warmth as they sit beside him, the gentle pressure of Malon holding his hand, or, when she was alone, her soft voice reading pieces of the letters he’d sent her since the beginning of this new journey.

_ “Wild and Hyrule got lost again; they dragged Wind into it this time too. We found them trapped in a pine tree having an argument with a bear. Is this what having kids is like? If so, I don’t want any.” _

Then the next day.

_ “Disregard everything I’ve ever said about not wanting kids. Twilight is teaching Wind how to do fancy braids to show his little sister, and it’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” _

She would always read the happy ones and quietly laugh to herself before tucking them away.

The next memory he recalls is one he’ll remember for a long time. One that will always bring him a flash of pride when he thinks about it and how much the boys have grown to trust each other.

_ The memory starts with soft muffled steps, a door quietly opening and closing, careful not to wake the other occupants of the house. Then follows the sound of someone settling into the chair beside his bed, and pulling their legs up to curl into it. _

_ It isn’t until there’s the quiet sound of metal wrapped in gauze knocking together that Time can discern who it is; Sky. _

_ Sky sits in silence, quietly knocking his claws together in a, previously uncharacteristic, effort to fend off sleep. _

_ After several minutes there’s the sound of the door opening and closing again. _

_ “What are you doing up?” Sky asks the newcomer. _

_ “Couldn’t sleep,” Legend’s voice replies, “and I could ask you the same thing.” _

_ It’s silent for a few seconds before Sky replies, “Nightmares.” _

_ There’s a quiet scraping sound as a chair is dragged closer, “Harder to deal with them without him?” _

_ Time can’t hear a response at first, but figures Sky must have nodded when there’s no additional question. _

_ “It shouldn’t even bother me this much…” Sky mumbles, “I mean, most of it wasn’t even real…” _

_ There’s silence save for the sound of fabric rustling, then Legend replies, “It was real to you. That’s the important part.” _

_ The two of them are silent for a while. _

_ “There’s… something I’ve been meaning to tell you guys… but I keep putting it off… and now…” _

_ “Everyone’s still willing to listen.” _

_ “I know…” Sky responds quietly, “but I want him to hear it too… and…” _

_ “Then you can tell us when he wakes up.” _


	24. Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That time again, we're nearing the end of Fierce, probably one more chapter. After this is going to be Four and, as always, I'll announce when I have that one up. Thank you all for your continued support of this series/AU, it's been really helpful and a ton of fun.

After getting him back in the house the eight Links settle around, or  _ on _ , the bed to wait for him to wake up. Most of them occupy themselves with books, journals, or weapon maintenance, but Twilight is off to the right side of the bed talking Sky through the importance and proper technique of caring for his claws while Wind and Four sit on opposite sides of the bed playing a game of chicken with a rubber band.

Time notices none of this as he wakes to a pounding headache and a harsh ringing in his ears. He groans moving to sit up and cradling his head with a hand. In response there’s the sound of several objects being dropped and a loud yelp as Wind and Four’s rubber band flies off and nails Hyrule in the face.

“Time?” Twilight asks worriedly.

Time groans, “What hit me…?”

“Your wife.” Legend responds bluntly.

Time looks up at that, eyes bleary but confused.

“With a frying pan.” Wind adds.

Time looks only more confused as the woman herself smiles apologetically as she passes out mags of hot chocolate from the tray in her arms, “Sorry honey, I ran out of other ideas.”

Time can taste the slight tang of red potion mixed into the hot chocolate soothing his headache and allowing vague memories of the event to surface.

He gives Malon a small smile, “It’s ok.”

Then the smile melts, “Did I hurt anyone.”

“Nope.” Warriors reports.

“Not even a scratch.” Hyrule continues.

“Except for the door.” Wild says.

“The door?” Time asks.

“You shattered the hinges,” Four replies, “but we already fixed that.”

Time nods, scating his eye over them just to make sure they’re not hiding any injuries. Surprisingly he finds nothing amiss, that is until his gaze finds Sky.

He’s sitting quietly, fiddling with his claws thoughtfully.

“What is it?” Time asks.

Sky jumps slightly, and now every eye is on him, waiting patiently for him to talk.

He takes a breath,  _ now or never _ , and starts, “I uh… I have a confession to make…”

* * *

Sky’s nearly in tears by the time he finishes.

“I’m sorry…” he says tearfully, “all of this is my fault…”

He keeps his gaze downward, unable to meet their eyes for fear of what he’ll see.

His eyes are drawn reflexively upward when a pillow crashes into his face and Legend’s voice sings, “Bullshit.”

Sky’s eyes are wide as he sees the other’s faces; somehow simultaneously sympathetic and woefully unimpressed.

“Did you  _ ask _ to get cursed?” Wind asks rhetorically, “cause unless you did it’s not your fault and I’m already done with the misplaced blame shit.”

All the others nod agreeingly, and Warriors is staring at him with a look that’s just  _ daring _ him to disagree.

Sky can’t help but chuckle, “I should’ve known that’s what you would all say, shouldn’t I?”

“Yes,” Time responds, “I already told you no one would be mad.”

Sky nods quietly, wiping away the remnants of his tears.

None of them notice Warriors looking thoughtfully around the room at his haggard, stressed companions. None of them notice him resolving that all of them being conscious, safe, and together at the ranch is an opportunity that should not be squandered.

None of them notice until he sits up and announces, “Alright, we’ve all earned a day to relax. So we’re having a slumber party, and we’re gonna do each others' nails like stereotypical teenage girls.”

His decree is met with silence for several seconds until Legend demands, “Only if you show me how to do eyeliner wings like that.”

“Deal.”


	25. Farewell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final Chapter!

Time had woken up around midday. It is now early in the evening and his fingernails have been painted a shimmering metallic gold and he’s sitting at the base of the couch as Wind practices putting artful braids in his hair, claiming it to be the closest in length to his sister’s. Malon and the other Links have scattered around the living room. Warriors and Legend are bickering back and forth as Warriors applies sparkling pastel pink eyeliner around Legend’s eyes with winged points sharp enough to kill a darknut. Hyrule has collected several bright blue and yellow flowers and, with Twilight’s careful instruction, is weaving them into Wild’s hair in a braided crown. At a small table Malon and Sky are helping each other to make face masks from milk and fruit, and Four has commandeered the love seat with the first batch of said masks on his face, waiting on his rainbow of nail polish to dry.

It isn’t quiet by any means, but it’s peaceful in a way they haven’t been in a while.

Somewhere around ten o'clock he and Malon chase the boys back to their shared rooms to go to bed, ignoring the complaints. Once they’ve gone Malon pulls him up into a dance to silent music. They twirl gracefully around the living room, quietly laughing to themselves and pretending they can’t hear the boys wrestling for space among themselves behind the, slightly ajar, door to the hallway.

Eventually he finds himself outside. He’s lost track of what time it is and how long he’s been sitting beside the lit fire pit staring contemplatively at The Fierce Deity Mask. He flips the mask over and over in his hands wondering after the meaning of his dreams, and getting no closer to an answer.

The moon is high in the night sky when he hears the footsteps. Malon is the first to arrive, slipping an arm around his shoulders as she settles onto the log bench beside him. Soon to follow are the rest of the Links, all crowding together around the fire.

No words are spoken, but he feels the support anyway.

He looks around at his collected family, and back down at the mask.

Then resolutely tosses it into the fire.

The wooden mask catches easily; quickly beginning to disintegrate.

As the mask burns a familiar ghostly figure has them all reaching for weapons, for standing in the flames is the ghostly visage of The Fierce Deity. They’re all prepared for an attack, but instead of moving, he  _ smiles _ .

He makes only one movement, and it is to turn to Time and bend at the waist in a grateful bow. The mask continues to burn away, and as it does, so does the figure; breaking into glowing particles and joining the embers of the fire in their journey towards the stars.

He says only two, whispered, words as he fades away.

_ “Thank you.” _


End file.
